


What The World Is About

by allonsy_gabriel



Series: Dreams To Be Daring For [3]
Category: Buzzfeed Unsolved (Web Series)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Parents, Anxious parents, But they get better, Dorks in Love, First Day of School, First Steps, Firsts, Fluff, Growing Up, Kid Fic, Light Angst, M/M, Parenting Feels, Sappy Shit, Shane Madej Loves Ryan Bergara, Sleepovers, Snow, They're bad at talking, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, and the feeling is Mutual, so much
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-06-05
Updated: 2019-06-14
Packaged: 2020-04-08 11:44:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,185
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19106416
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/allonsy_gabriel/pseuds/allonsy_gabriel
Summary: Eleanora took her first steps in Ryan’s parents’ living room while a Lakers game played on the TV.The first time Shane told Ryan he loved him, they were watching Jurassic World.(Or, A Reflection Upon Firsts)





	1. You'll Blow Us All Away

**Author's Note:**

> yeehaw buckaroos it's time for More Of This Nonsense  
> this one is going to be a Bit lengthy. maybe not as long as Dreams, but,,, it'll have some Heft.
> 
> ALSO also: just because i haven't said it before: if you or someone you know is mentioned in the tags... you're already three stories deep in this what are you doing mate?

Eleanora took her first steps in Ryan’s parents’ living room while a Lakers game played on the TV.

She’d been standing up for a while and crawling for even longer, and Shane had taken to pulling out his phone every time she pushed herself up on her little feet, ready to video.

So when she used the Bergaras’ coffee table to steady herself, smiling away with a purple bow in her hair, Shane was prepared. “C’mon, sweetheart,” he said, handing Ryan his phone while he lowered himself to his knees and held out his arms. “Walk to Dad. It’s okay, you can do it!”

Eleanora scrunched up her nose, looking from Shane to the floor and back to Shane, before slowly picking up her foot and taking a tentative step forward.

And she was off.

Another step, then another, and then she was halfway to Shane, him and Ryan cheering and clapping and whooping and hollering, and then--

She landed back on her bottom with a plop, looking up at Shane and Ryan with expectant eyes.

“Oh my God!” Ryan shouted, dropping Shane’s phone and all but jumping over him in his excitement to scoop Eleanora up into his arms. “Look at you, kiddo! You did so good! I’m so proud of you!”

Shane was up next to him a moment later. “You did it!” he agreed. “You’re gonna be Dad’s little speed racer in no time!”

Eleanora giggled and clapped. “Dad! Nyan!” she screeched, her high pitched laugh ringing throughout the room.

Ryan’s mom poked her head into the room a moment later, asking, “Is everything okay in here?”

“She took her first steps!” Ryan exclaimed, kissing the top of her head.

There was more clapping, more cheering, and enough kisses placed on Eleanora’s little noggin that Shane started getting worried about germs.

“She’s getting so _big_ ,” Shane whispered, staring at the child in his arms. “Holy shit, _she’s getting so big_.”

Ryan nodded, reaching over to run his fingers through her little brown curls.

Shane could remember the first time he’d done that, standing at the baggage claim at LAX, ruffling her hair as she climbed all over Shane like a jungle gym. He’d been so scared, so upset and confused, and there Ryan had been, with a joke and the insistence that Shane wouldn’t have to be alone.

“God, I’m so _proud of her_ ,” Ryan muttered. “She’s just--she’s so--I can’t even describe it, man. She’s just--she makes me so _proud_.”

Shane nodded, bouncing her up and down on his hip.

He understood.

***

The first time Shane told Ryan he loved him, they were watching _Jurassic World_ , which, in retrospect, was maybe not the most romantic story ever, but life wasn’t a Danielle Steele novel, and sometimes your boyfriend brought you a really fucking excellent bowl of popcorn after changing your daughter’s diaper and kissed you on the cheek as you both watched an okayish sequel with not _nearly_ enough Goldblum in it, and shit happened.

“You’re a fucking godsend, holy shit, I love you,” Shane said without thinking, taking the perfectly made bowl of popcorn as Ryan sat down next to him. A moment later, it dawned on him what _exactly_ had come out of his mouth, and he felt his face heat up.

Jesus Christ, he’d really fucked that one up, hadn’t he? They’d only been dating for, like, four months, two weeks, and five days (not that Shane was, like, counting). Surely that was _too soon_ to be saying the L Word, and it was _definitely_ not cool to say it while the kid from Iron Man 3 ran from dinosaurs in a glass hamster ball.

Ryan froze for a second. “I, uh, love you too,” he said quietly.

“Cool,” Shane said casually. “Glad to know we’re, uh, we’re on the same page, there.”

Ryan paused the movie.

“Do we need to talk about this?” he asked, staring up at Shane with wide eyes.

“Um… I don’t--I mean, I don’t think so.”

“Cool, okay,” Ryan said. “Nice. Glad we sorted that out. I love you.”

“I--I love you, too,” Shane stuttered out.

Ryan kissed his cheek again and pressed play.

And pressed pause a minute later. “Okay but, like, here’s the deal, dude--I, like, really fucking love you. Like, it’s--it’s a lot, and I don’t know if maybe that’s too much too soon or whatever, and I don’t want you to go all Midwestern on me and silently freak out, so if--if--”

“Ryan,” Shane interrupted. “Chill It’s--it’s cool, really. I, uh, really fucking love you, too, so. We’re good. No--no freaking out over here.”

“Awesome.”

“Great.”

“Amazing.”

“Incredible.”

“Remarkable.”

“Nifty _fucking_ neato.”

“ _Nifty--_ Shane, what the _actual_ fuck?”

“It was the only logical progression--”

“ _Only logical_ \--you’re fucking ridiculous, you know that?”

“Yeah, but apparently you love me, so take _that_ , Bergara.”

Ryan laughed and Shane turned so he could kiss him for real, one hand cupping Ryan’s cheek and the other resting on his hip.

They didn’t finish the movie.

***

The first time Eleanora called Ryan _Boo_ instead of _Nyan_ , Shane thought his fiance was going to _lose his shit_.

“She did it!” Ryan said, practically vibrating with excitement. “She called me--she called me Boo!”

Shane rolled his eyes and kissed his daughter’s cheek, and then Ryan’s.

“The fact that your--your _dad name_ is _Boo_ is something I will _never_ get over,” he said. “You--I worked _so hard_ to convince people that she’s not going to grow up and be some sort of ghost hunting savant, and then you waltz in and you’re like ‘oh yes, I want my paternal name to be the sound _ghosts make_.’ Honestly, Ryan.”

“It’s cute!” Ryan argued.

“It is,” Shane agreed. “It’s also _incredibly_ corny and dumb.”

“It’s on brand, then.”

“Literally.”

“ _Literally_.”

“Boo, up!” Eleanora insisted, bouncing in her car seat. “Up, up!”

“Hey, hey. What’s the magic word?” Shane asked, grabbing the baby backpack out of the trunk.

“Please?” Eleanora asked.

“There we go,” Ryan said, hauling her out of her car seat and onto his hip. “You ready to go meet the princesses?”

“ _An’ Spiderman!_ ” Eleanora shouted, waving her little arms in the air.

“Yes, baby girl. _And Spiderman_ ,” Ryan agreed.

(They’d recently discovered Disney XD, and the Spiderman show was quickly becoming Eleanora’s favorite.)

Shane figured it was sort of fitting that these sorts of things--the big things, the _figuring out your unrequited crush is actually, like, the opposite of unrequited_ things, the _your child calling you some version of ‘dad’ for the first time_ things--kept happening at Disneyland. He wasn’t--he’d never been one to _feel the magic in the air_ or whatever bullshit it was that people spouted, but he had to admit, he could see why people thought it _could_ be true.

“You ready to go, Ry?” Shane asked, taking Eleanora’s tiny little hand as Ryan sat her on the ground.

“You know me, man. I’m always ready.”

Shane scoffed. “Oh, yeah, that’s so-- _Shane, I’m so scared, dude, why don’t you go first, and then--_ ”

“Locations don’t count, asshole,” Ryan snapped. “I’m always--I’m always ready for _Disney_.”

“Well then,” Shane said with a grin. “Let’s rock and roll!”

***

The first time Shane called Ryan his husband, he was talking to the Lyft driver who was taking them to the airport.

“Ready to go, then?” the woman asked as Shane struggled to fit all his limbs into a Honda Accord that was _definitely_ not designed to transport any person taller than six feet.

“Yeah, no, uh, just a sec. My husband’s on his way out,” Shane said, in awe of just how _natural_ the words sounded as they came out of his mouth. His husband, Ryan Bergara-Madej. He’d almost expected it to sound weird, after so much time, but in reality, the only weird thing about it was how _unweird_ it was.

“Ah,” the driver said. “Anniversary trip?”

“Honeymoon, actually.”

“Oh, well then. Congrats.”

“Thanks,” Shane replied, smiling as he watched Ryan exit the apartment complex, suitcase in hand.

The whole thing just seemed _right_. Shane and Ryan, Ryan and Shane, off on some other wacky adventure. It was like nature had run its course. It was inevitable, unavoidable. Ryan, grinning as he tossed his suitcase into the trunk and slid into the car next to Shane. Shane, smiling back at him, showing him something ridiculous he’d found on his phone and unable to stop himself from joining in with him with his own wheezing laugh.

The whole thing was just the way of the world, plain and simple. The sun rose in the east, set in the west, ghosts weren’t real, and Ryan and Shane always belonged at each other’s sides.

Shane rolled his eyes at his own wondering, romantic thoughts and kissed the top of Ryan’s head.

Their golden wedding bands shone in the night.

***

Shane didn’t think Eleanora’s first day of school would make him so emotional, but he’d _also_ thought dipping a chocolate chip cookie in ranch wouldn’t have been _that bad_ , if that told you a little something about his sense of judgment.

Eleanora wore short, blue overalls over her   grey and yellow polka-dot leggings and a yellow t-shirt. Shane had somehow managed to tame those crazy brown curls of hers into a ponytail, and she had a bright purple backpack slung over her shoulders.

“Dad, Dad, Dad, can we go yet?” she asked, hopping from one foot to the other.

Her hot pink glasses slipped down her nose.

“Hold on, sweetie,” Shane said as he tied the laces on his boots. “Your boo is still getting ready.”

“He can go separate. I wanna gooooo,” Eleanora whined.

God, she was--

She was _so big_.

Five years old hadn’t ever _seemed_ big before, but as Shane looked at his daughter, who had a favorite color (rainbow sparkles, which Shane didn’t know counted, but Eleanora had been _insistent_ ) and a favourite book ( _The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe_ , but only if Shane and Ryan agreed to do the voices, otherwise it was Junie B. Jones) and a favourite meal (fish sticks and Velveeta shells and cheese and _absolutely no ketchup_ ), he suddenly realised just how much she’d _grown up_.

She was her own person now. She had bits of Shane and bits of Ryan and bits of Michael and bits of Olivia and some bits that Shane recognized as just _pure Eleanora_.

She loved to sing along with Disney movies and had recently asked if she could start taking violin and karate lessons.

And _God_ , Shane loved her _so much_.

“He wants to be there for your first day of school, kiddo,” Shane said, straightening his own glasses.

Eleanora dramatically threw herself onto one of the kitchen chairs, and Shane rolled his eyes.

“But _Dad_ , if we don’t get there soon, all the good desks will be _gone_ ,” Eleanora persisted. “And I’ll have to sit at the back with all the gross kids.”

“Eleanora, what have we said about calling other kids gross?” Shane asked, raising his eyebrow.

“Not to do it.”

“Okay then,” Shane said, leaning down to kiss her cheek.

A minute later, he sat back up and yelled, “Ryan! Are you done primping yet?”

“It’s not--it’s not _primping_ , you jerk!” Ryan yelled back. “It’s _making sure our daughter’s teacher doesn’t think I’m a slob_.”

Shane glanced over at Eleanora, who was giggling. “It’s primping,” he whispered.

Eleanora nodded, and Shane held out his fist for her to bump.

Finally, Ryan emerged from the bathroom, awkwardly tugging at the sleeves of his short sleeve button up.

“How come you dress up for a bunch of pre-k kids but not for me?” Shane asked.

“Because you already know I’m a mess. There’s no point in trying to fool you.”

“Oh, yes, because I’m sure little Jimothy will _definitely_ care about the shirt you’re wearing while he’s shoving crayons up his nose.”

“Hey, at least Jimothy won’t get the crayons lost inside of his _absurdly large head_.

“Not to be, like, an asshole or anything--”

“Pretty hard for you.”

“ _But_ it has been, you know. Ten years. Maybe you should try out some new material.”

“Shut up, Shane,” Ryan muttered, but Shane could see him trying not to smile. “Am I driving?”

“Well, if you’re offering,” Shane said, tossing him the keys.

“Boo, don’t I look cute?” Eleanora said, apparently tired of being ignored.

“Oh, absolutely,” Ryan quickly agreed. “The cutest.”

“Dad said I looked like a fashionable minion.”

“Your dad looks like a lumberjack had a kid with bigfoot. Don’t listen to him.”

“For the last time, _I’m a human_!”

“Keep telling yourself that.”

“What does--what does that even _mean_?”

“Oh, you know what it means.”

“I honestly don’t.”

“Why don’t you stop slowing us down with your shit so that we can take Nora to school, okay? You’re gonna make us late.”

“ _I’m_ going to--oh, you’re on _thin ice_ , Bergara.”

“Beragara-Madej. Get it right.”

“Would you--would you shut up and get in the car, please?”

“You guys are silly,” Eleanora piped up, tugging on her backpack straps. “Most of the time being mean to someone means you think they’re gross, not that you love them.”

Shane caught Ryan’s eye and grinned.

Maybe so.

Maybe that was just the Ghoul Boys difference.

***

Eleanora’s first recital was on an unusually warm November evening. She’d been taking violin for all of four months, but according to her teacher, she was picking it up _remarkably_ quickly, and would be able to perform with the other students.

Shane was pretty sure he was about to _explode_ with pride.

“Did you get one of the little pamphlets?” he asked as he awkwardly shuffled into one of the pews at the church where the recital was being held.

“Yeah. Nora is sixth out of thirteen,” Ryan replied, tugging at the sleeves of his navy blue blazer.

“Do you want to video or hold the flowers?”

“Dude, my hands are going to be shaking so bad. You’re on camera duty.”

“Got it,” Shane agreed, passing Ryan the bouquet they’d gotten from an actual florist.

Were they being ridiculous, over-the-top dads?

Absolutely. Shane wasn’t even the tiniest bit sorry.

 

The other performances seemed to drag on _forever_ . They weren’t _bad_ , not at all, but Shane just _knew_ Eleanora was going to _blow them out of the water_.

“Okay, Nora’s up next,” Ryan hissed as he clapped for a kid who’d played some sort of Mozart thing (to be honest, Shane hadn’t been paying much attention).

“Alright, okay,” Shane said, quickly opening his camera. “I do something embarrassing, I’m expecting you to cover for me.”

“Babe, if you don’t think I’m going to be crying right there with you you’re dead fucking wrong.”

“Good point,” Shane admitted.

Eleanora was…

 _Incredible_.

Okay, so _maybe_ she wasn’t, like, a prodigy _technically_ , but Shane was _pretty sure_ five year olds weren’t supposed to be able to make _intelligible music_ come out of a violin. But there she was! His kid! Going at it, making music, moving her little fingers around, using that… bow…

So maybe Shane didn’t know much about violin in general, but that didn’t mean his daughter wasn’t fucking _impressive_.

His hands hurt from clapping so hard.

“That’s my girl!” Ryan yelled , and Shane laughed as all the other violin parents turned to glare at them.

The rest of the recital went by in a blur as Shane did his best not to seem so misty eyed about the whole thing.

“You did so _great_ , sweetheart!” he said as he spun Eleanora around in a hug afterward. “You--you were _definitely_ the best up there. No contest. I’m so _proud_ of you!”

“I didn’t even mess up!” Eleanora insisted, hopping up and down.

“You did _awesome_ , kiddo,” Ryan agreed, blinking rapidly as he smiled. He held out the flowers “We, uh, we got you something because you did _so_ good and we’re--we’re _so_ proud of you.”

Eleanora’s eyes went wide as she held the brightly colored flowers to her chest. “Wow,” she said quietly. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome, sweetheart,” Shane said, kissing her forehead. “Only the best for our best girl. Now, what do you say we go get some dinner? You get to pick.”

“Anything?’ Eleanora asked.

“Anything,” Ryan agreed.

“ _Dairy Queen_!” Eleanora shouted.

Shane laughed as Eleanora grabbed her case in her other hand and made a break for the car.

Ryan grabbed his hand as they followed behind, twining their fingers together.

“I think we’re doing pretty good,” he said. “I mean, look at her. She’s a fucking--she’s _amazing_ , and she has good taste in ice cream.”

“Yeah,” Shane agreed softly, kissing Ryan’s cheek. “We’re doing alright.”


	2. No One Will Ever Bring You Harm

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Our girl is growing up, and the G Word is brought up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it took so long, and I'm sorry it's so short! I've been bouncing around DC all week, and I'm actually finishing this up on the train ride to NYC, so it's been hard to find time to write!
> 
> This part is more angsty than anything thus far, but it's still, like, 96% fluff, so don't worry.
> 
> I hope you guys enjoy!

The first time Eleanora went to go spend the night at a friend’s house, Shane thought Ryan was going to have a panic attack and that wasn’t even an exaggeration.

“Ryan, Ry, look at me, babe,” Shane said, turning to face him as they stopped at a light.

Ryan did so on what seemed like autopilot, his eyes wide in a way usually reserved for an extra spooky location.

“Ryan, she’s going to be fine. Eleanora is going to be  _ fine _ ,” Shane insisted.

“But what if something  _ happens _ ?” Ryan asked, his voice cracking over the word. “We--we’ll be all the way across town, Shane. She--How well do we even know these people? That--that’s our  _ daughter _ , Shane, and we just sent her into a house full of strangers--”

“You mean  _ her best friend’s house, where her best friend’s parents are, both of whom we’ve talked with extensively _ ,” Shane corrected.

“What if she has an allergic reaction--”

“She’s not allergic to anything, Ryan.”

“--or gets hurt--”

“They’re going to be watching  _ Coco  _ at home, Ryan.”

“--or sick--”

“Kids get sick all the time, Ryan. Just--listen to yourself, man,” Shane said, taking Ryan’s hand and tracing nonsense patterns over the back. “You went to sleepovers as a kid, right?”

“I mean, yeah, but--”

“And you’re  _ fine _ ,” Shane pointed out. “Nothing--nothing bad happened, right?”

“Right…”

“And I went to sleepovers and I’m fine, and  _ every kid in the country _ goes to sleepovers and most of them are  _ fine _ .”

“I know, I just… I worry,” Ryan muttered, rubbing his free hand over his face as they began moving forward.

“I know, babe,” Shane replied. “But, look at it this way--if we can go to  _ demon houses  _ and spend the night and turn out okay, what are the odds of something happening to Eleanora in a  _ normal _ house?”

“Oh God, I never thought of that--”

“See? She’s gonna be alright, Ry--”

“They could have  _ demons  _ at their house, Shane! Oh my God, why did I never  _ ask _ \--”

“ _ Ryan _ ,” Shane said softly. “Do I need to pull over?”

“No,” Ryan murmured, rubbing his eyes. “No, I’m good, I just--God, Shane, I don’t know what I would do if--if anything happened to her.”

“Me too,” Shane admitted, “But we can’t just--we can’t just  _ be afraid _ all the time. That’s not--that’s not going to help anything. If anything, it’ll hurt her.”

“I know,” Ryan said. “I’m just… worried.”

In all honesty?

Shane was worried, too.

Shane was  _ always  _ worried. Worried Eleanora would get bullied at school for having two dads, worried that they’d be late to violin lessons, worried about whether or not certain Tupperware were dishwasher safe, worried about Eleanora getting hurt, getting kidnapped, getting, god forbid--

They’d stopped covering cases involving children on the show. They had to. There was just so much  _ fear _ all the time, knowing that things  _ happened _ , that  _ bad people _ existed, that no one was ever really safe, that life could be destroyed in a  _ moment _ .

And Shane was  _ worried _ .

Ryan showed it more--Ryan showed  _ everything _ more--but Shane wasn’t unaffected.

He was terrified.

But it was true. That wasn’t any way to live, and it  _ certainly _ wasn’t what was best for Eleanora.

And Shane had swore he was going to give his little girl the best he possibly could.

“It’ll be alright,” he said quietly. “She’ll be alright.”

***

Eleanora was seven the first time she really got to play in the snow, and Shane wasn’t happy about it.

“I’m raising a  _ delicate California flower _ ,” he lamented to his brother as they sat on the front porch of their parents’ house. Eleanora was lying on her back making snow angels while Scott’s son, Jacob, aimlessly toddled around the yard. “She thinks  _ fifty degrees  _ is  _ cold _ .”

Scott shrugged. “You’re the one who moved to SoCal and got  _ married _ , man,” he said. “And don’t think I missed the extra sweater you’ve got on. You’re not exactly Elsa yourself.”

“I--What are you implying?”

“You’re soft, Shane.”

“Wha--I--no--how dare you. I’m not-- _ Ryan  _ is the soft one, not me!”

“Shane. You spent ten minutes showing me pictures of Ellie playing violin.”

Shane was about to argue when Eleanora ran up to him, her back covered in snow. “Dad!” she yelled. “Dad, I ate some snow! Just out of the air! I caught it in my mouth!”

“Whoa!” Shane exclaimed back, holding up his hand for a high five. “That’s so cool!”

“It just tasted like ice.”

“Well, it is ice, pretty much,” Shane told her, trying to ignore the look Scott was giving him. “Hey, why don’t you go get your boo and ask him if he wants to come help us get snow to make snow ice cream?”

“ _ Snow ice cream _ ?” Eleanora repeated, awe and wonder in her high pitched voice.

“Yeah, kiddo,” Shane said with a chuckle, leaning over to kiss the tip of her bright-red nose.

Eleanora giggled and ran inside.

“Remember to take off your boots at the door! Your grandma will have both of our asses if you track mud and sludge through the house!” Shane called after her.

“Not soft, huh?”

“Nope. Never.”

“You’re a shit liar, Shane.”

“Yeah, well,” was all Shane offered as an explanation, shrugging.

A few minutes later, Eleanora was racing back outside, holding a massive stainless steel mixing bowl in one hand and Ryan’s hand in the other.

Ryan looked like he was trying to become one with his parka.

“I was told we were making ice cream,” he said through chattering teeth.

“Yup!” Shane said. “Do we have any more bowls?”

“Uh, your mom said that there was a pitcher out here for watering the birds, whatever  _ that  _ means, and we could use that,” Ryan said.

He was already shivering.

Shane had married a winter weakling.

“Alright!” he said with a clap of his hands. “Eleanora, you’re in charge of filling your bowl with  _ clean snow _ . It  _ has  _ to be clean, or else the ice cream will, frankly, taste like shit.”

“Jesus Christ,” Scott muttered, “How does she survive at school?”

“We had a long conversation about  _ words we can say anywhere _ and  _ words to not ever ever ever say outside the house _ ,” Shane said as Eleanora raced out onto the lawn, leaning over to scoop up the snow and dump it into her bowl.

“And we had a lot of phone calls when she started pre-k. Don’t forget that,” Ryan interjected.

“Only, like, four. That’s a reasonable number.”

“ _ Dude _ .”

“ _ It’s reasonable _ !”

“Dad! Boo! Why is this snow all weird colored?”

Shane glanced over at Ryan, who was covering his mouth with one gloved hand and shaking with something besides the cold.

“Uh, just… don’t mess with it, sweetheart!” Shane shouted back.

“She’s  _ seven _ ,” Ryan whispered. “How does she not know about yellow snow?”

“ _ Oh, no, Shane, what if we get snowed in while we’re up there? Your family can stay at our place for the holidays, we have the room _ \--”

“Okay, alright, shut up,” Ryan said, rolling his eyes. He held out the bird-watering pitcher. “You wanna go find some premium snow?”

“Only the best. Nothing less than Michelin star quality snow.  _ Gourmet ice crystals _ for our snow ice cream,” Shane agreed, taking Ryan’s hand.

Two more sets of footprints crisscrossed the lawn.

***

Shane was pretty over the whole  _losing teeth_ thing, and Eleanora hadn't even lost one yet.

"But it  _hurts_!" she insisted. "It hurts to eat, it hurts to talk--"

"Then maybe you should stop talking, sweetheart," Ryan interrupted. "Look, I'm sorry it hurts, but you can't just have milkshakes and mashed potatoes until it comes out. Either you deal with it hurting, or you let me or Dad pull it."

It was sort of weird, watching Ryan be the Discipline One. Ryan was usually the big ol' softy who was absolutely _weak_ against Eleanora's puppy eyes. They both, like, enforced the rules, but Shane was the one who said  _only one yogurt for a snack_ and  _don't ride your bike past the end of the block_ and  _Spongebob will rot your brain_ while Ryan was the one who said  _okay, fine, but just this once_.

(Just this once Shane's ass. You don't go through a twelve pack of Gogurt in four days by having an extra _just this once_.)

"But pulling it will  _hurt_ ," Eleanora argued, dropping her head to the table and smooshing her cheek.

"It'll hurt for, like, two seconds, and then it'll be over," Ryan promised. "These are the options, sweetheart. I'm sorry."

Eleanora sighed before lifting her head.

She slowly, carefully cut off the tiniest piece of chicken Shane had ever seen.

She seemed about halfway through chewing when she suddenly burst into tears. "'M--'m  _sorry_ ," she cried. "It hurts  _too much_!"

"Shhh, shhh, it's alright," Shane said quickly, rubbing his daughter's shoulders. "It's--everything's going to be okay, sweetie."

Shane looked over at Ryan who, for a moment, seemed equally distraught before squaring his shoulders. "Honey, can you look at me, please?" he asked softly.

Eleanora slowly looked up.

"I think we're going to have to pull it," Ryan said calmly. For a moment, Shane thought things were going to go from  _pretty awful_ to  _straight up shit_ real fast, but finally, Eleanora nodded.

"Okay then. Let's do this," Ryan said in a resigned, gritty voice that would've been comical at any other time. (They were pulling a loose tooth, for Christ's sake, not acing the assembled hoards of Genghis Khan or going back to the Sallie House or whatever.)

Ryan led Eleanora to the bathroom, and Shane trailed behind.

God, he was...

He was  _absolute shit_ at this part. The  _Eleanora being hurt_ part. Ryan was so much better in these moments. Not to say that he wasn't the absolute  _king_ of being an anxious, overprotective dad, but when push came to shove, Ryan was the one who tended to scraped knees and twisted ankles and bumps on the head. For all Shane showboated as nonchalant and cool, the moment Eleanora was hurting, he, in a cruel reversal of roles,  _panicked_.

Shane was sure there was something to overanalyze there, something about Ryan constantly working to overcome his fears and thus handling it better when they became realized, something about Shane's lingering fear of  _never being good enough_ for the little girl the universe had decided was going to be his.

Whatever.

"Okay, baby girl, who do you want to pull it out?" Ryan asked, and Eleanora pointed at him.

Shane (somewhat guiltily) heaved a sigh of relief.

"Shane?" Ryan asked, "Babe, would you please get some paper towels from the kitchen? I have a feeling this might get...  _messy_."

Shane nodded and rushed off. When he returned, paper towels in hand, Eleanora was standing in front of Ryan, who was sitting on the toilet. One of his hands cupped Eleanora's chin and the other was, presumably, holding onto the troublesome tooth.

"Okay, I'm going to pull on three," he said. "Got that? On three, I'm going to pull it out."

Eleanora nodded, and Shane cringed.

Poor kid didn't know the  _do it on two_ trick.

Sure enough, on number two, Ryan yanked, and there was a soft  _pop_.

Eleanora's face twisted up in pain, and a moment later, Shane was there, handing over paper towels and wrapping her up in a hug.

 

Later, after a few more tears and a change of clothes, the three of them were sat on the sofa, dinner on their laps and a massive carton of mint chocolate chip ice cream between them.

Eleanora looked up and asked, "Do you think the tooth fairy will come tonight?"

Shane opened his mouth to say,  _no, the tooth fairy isn't real, but I'll give you a dollar anyway_ when he caught Ryan's eye.

Ryan glared at him.

Shane glared back.

Ryan shook his head no.

Shane narrowed his eyes.

Ryan's eyes were wide and he glanced down at Eleanora and back up at Shane.

Shane sighed.

"Yeah, kid," he conceded. "The tooth fairy will probably come."

***

Somehow, the whole  _ ghost thing _ wasn’t mentioned until Eleanora was eight. Shane didn’t know  _ how _ , exactly, they’d made it that far, but, well…

He wasn’t complaining.

The three of them were sitting on the couch, Eleanora in the middle with a massive bowl of popcorn in her lap. They were watching  _ Return of the Jedi _ when Eleanora asked, just loud enough to hear over the movie, “Are ghosts real?”

Shane saw Ryan grin from the corner of his eye, and he knew he had to act fast.

“No!” he said quickly. “Nope. They’re fake, one-hundred percent, just absolute--absolutely a crock of bull.”

“ _ Shane _ .”

“They’re  _ not real _ , Ryan!”

“There’s evidence--hell,  _ we’ve found evidence _ \--”

“We haven’t found shit, Ryan. We’ve found a bunch of old, run-down buildings that give you the heebie-jeebies. That’s  _ it _ ,” Shane insisted.

Ryan glared at him.

“ _ Some people _ ,” he said, looking down at Eleanora, who was watching the whole ordeal with wide eyes, “think they’re fake. Other people think they’re real. It’s all a matter of opinion.”

“No it’s  _ not _ , because one side is backed up by  _ facts and science _ and the other side is backed up by stupid radios and flickering flashlights,” Shane argued.

“Do  _ you _ believe in ghosts, Boo?” Eleanora asked.

“Yup,” Ryan said, and then, a moment later, continued. “Nora, sweetheart, do you know what your dad and I do for our jobs?”

“You make funny videos,” Eleanora said dutifully. “My friend Aiden’s big sister watches them. She said you guys are  _ chaotic good _ .”

Shane… didn’t really know what to say to that.

“Do you know what those videos are about?” he asked.

“Um… dad stuff, probably?”

Shane bit his lip to keep from laughing. 

“Not… not quite, sweetheart,” Ryan said. “We, uh, we look for ghosts.”

“ _ You guys are the Ghostbusters _ ?!” Eleanora exclaimed loudly, hopping to her feet. The only thing that stood between the bowl of popcorn and utter ruination was Shane’s well-honed  _ dad reflexes _ , trained over years of catching things Eleanora had thrown or dropped or knocked over. “ _ And you never even told me _ ?!”

“We--we’re not the Ghostbusters, sweetheart,” Shane said, placing the popcorn on the side table. “We’re… God, I can’t believe I’m telling my daughter I’m a  _ ghost hunter _ \--”

“Paranormal investigator,” Ryan corrected

“ _ Whatever _ . It’s ridiculous and it’s your fault.”

“Para-paramoral--paramormon--” Eleanora tried to say.

“ _ Paranormal Investigators _ ,” Ryan repeated. “We try and find ghosts.”

“But aren’t ghosts scary?” Eleanora asked.

“Nah,” Shane said. “They’re not real. It’s just like talking to an imaginary friend.”

“ _ Ghosts are real _ ,” Ryan persisted. “They’re real! You can’t tell me that, looking at all of our evidence--”

“It’s not compelling, Ryan.”

“If they aren’t real, why do you look for them?” Eleanora interrupted, tilting her head to the side. “That seems silly.”

“It  _ is  _ silly, baby girl, but someone has to keep your boo from going crazy, so I have to go with him.”

“And you never know,” Ryan interjected. “Maybe one day your dad will see a ghost and then he’ll admit they’re real.”

“They’re not real,” Shane whispered, winking at Eleanora, who giggled.

A moment later, the giggling stopped, and when Shane looked at her again, Eleanora’s face was serious in a way that took Shane by surprise.

“If… if ghosts are real, do you think my mama and my first dad are ghosts? Do you think they see me? Do you think they’re happy?” she asked quietly, looking between them with her big, blue eyes.

(They were getting greener every day. Michael’s eyes had been green.)

“I…” Shane started, but he quickly found he had no idea what to say.

“They would be  _ so  _ proud of you, sweetheart,” Ryan said softly, ducking down to kiss Eleanora’s cheek. “There’s no way they couldn’t be.”

Eleanora nodded, pushing up her glasses.

“Do you think I could go on a ghost hunt one day?” she asked.

“We’ll see when you get older,” Shane said, ruffling her hair. “Even if there aren’t ghosts, the places we go to are old and dark and dirty, and we wouldn’t want you to get hurt.”

The thing was, Shane would be surprised if Ryan ever even let Eleanora go to  _ Walmart _ if he’d heard it was haunted. He was  _ ridiculously  _ protective.

It was stupidly endearing, and Shane allowed himself a single moment to wallow in the fact that he’d become  _ sentimental _ .

Not that he regretted it.

He wouldn’t change it for the world.

***

“So how was school today?” Shane asked as Eleanora hopped up onto the stool in the kitchen, a packet of Cheez-Its in hand.

“It was… good,” she muttered quietly, looking at the counter.

Shane narrowed his eyes.

“Are you sure?”

“Yup.”

“Okay then,” Shane agreed, giving her he  _ Dad Once Over _ .

“I mean,” she said a minute later, her mouth full of cheese crackers.

Shane raised an eyebrow at her, and she quickly swallowed.

“I mean,” she repeated, “There is, um. There was a  _ new kid  _ in class today.”

“Oh,” Shane replied, raising his eyebrows.

“Yeah,” Eleanora said, tapping the counter. “His name’s Andrew, and he’s from  _ Oklahoma _ .”

“Wow. That’s pretty far away.”

“Yeah,” Eleanora agreed. “He talks a little funny, and he called us  _ y’all _ , but he’s nice. Kinda funny. Not like you and Boo, he’s, like,  _ nice  _ funny.”

“What does  _ that  _ mean?” Shane asked.

“You guys are, like, mean funny. You do the stuff that Ms. Walters says people in  _ cliques _ do, Dad. You guys should work on that. Cliques are bad.”

Shane snorted. “I’ll be sure to mention that to your boo.”

“Good idea,” Eleanora stated, not noticing the sarcasm. “But anyway, Andrew is nice funny. He even likes aliens! And he thinks ghosts are real, which is kinda dumb but I didn’t tell him that because that’s not nice and also Boo said that believing in ghosts is  _ not _ dumb. And his hair is shiny and blonde and he’s got all these freckles!”

Shane nodded along for a moment before it dawned on him.

His  _ daughter _ . Had a  _ crush _ . On a  _ boy _ .

“And you and Andrew made friends?” Shane asked.

Eleanora’s cheeks turned red. “Yeah, I guess,” she mumbled, looking down at the kitchen counter.

“That was nice of you,” Shane replied, trying to  _ Stay Cool _ . He didn’t want to be one of those people who, like, shamed his kid or anything, and he didn’t want to make it a  _ massive earth-shattering deal _ .

God, Ryan was going to  _ flip _ .

“Yeah, well,” Eleanora said, glancing up from her snack. “He’s, uh. Cool, I guess. And we're--we’re supposed to be  _ practicing kindness _ and all that stuff, so… yeah.”

“Okay then,” Shane said, scratching the back of his neck. “Well, uh, if you ever want to  _ talk _ about anything, just, uh. Let me know. I can--I’m here for you. Your boo is here for you. It’s… Don’t think you can’t, like, talk to us--”

“Oh, God,  _ Dad _ ,” Eleanora cried out, throwing a Cheez-It at him. “Don’t be--don’t be  _ weird _ . I’m just--ew, gross,  _ no _ . Boys are--they’re  _ gross _ , Dad. I don’t-- _ jeez _ .”

She looked like a tomato.

“Just--Just in case, though,” Shane insisted. “I know we--we make a lot of jokes, but… we’re, like--we love you, kid, and--”

“Yeah, okay, I know,” Eleanora said. She hopped down from her stool and went over to wrap her arms around Shane’s waist. “I love you guys too.”

***

Eleanora cried the first time she flew on an airplane. Actually, she cried the first few times she flew on an airplane. She stopped about she was about four.

She cried again when she was twelve.

“Nora? Sweetheart, are you okay?” Ryan asked, drawing Shane’s attention to his daughter’s tear-stained face.

“Yeah, I--I’m good,” she said, hurriedly wiping at her eyes.

They’d given her the window seat this time. Actually, it was the first she’d gotten the window seat ever.

“You sure?” Shane said, reaching across Ryan’s lap to grab her hand.

“Yeah, I just… I never saw it like this before,” Eleanora whispered, looking out the tiny window. “Is it always so big?”

“Yeah, kiddo,” Ryan replied, kissing the top of her head. “It always is.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading! Please tell me what you thought, and find me on tumblr @allonsy-gabriel!

**Author's Note:**

> i hope you guys like this so far! please tell me what you think and, as always, find me on tumblr @allonsy-gabriel! my ask box and messages are open, so if you have anything you want to talk about, or prompts for this 'verse, or anything, PLEASE send them my way i would LOVE to hear them!


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